


Dimensionwise

by Enneara



Series: Reflections [4]
Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Sex, F/M, Friendship/Love, Holodecks/Holosuites, Matchmaking, Multiple Selves, Symbionts, Trills
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-06
Updated: 2017-05-06
Packaged: 2018-10-28 20:27:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10838823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Enneara/pseuds/Enneara
Summary: ‘I’m amazed you managed to keep it to yourself this long.’‘I did once go to lower pylon two just so I could scream it to an empty corridor.’As Dax struggles to keep her relationship with Benjamin a secret, Kira and Jake’s attempts at matchmaking push her to a decision. Sequel toContrariwise,Phantomwise, andOtherwise.





	Dimensionwise

**Author's Note:**

> We’re back in Dax POV (mostly) for a belated continuation (and, I’m pretty sure, conclusion) to this series. I love Kasidy, and Jake’s sneaky matchmaking is coming up in canon, so I wanted to see how that would shake down with this version of Dax and Sisko. And this was the slightly surprising result. Bonus Kira & Dax friendship, plus I headcanoned Curzon being Jake’s godfather because it just makes sense. Curzon for everyone’s space godfather.
> 
> Spoilers for Fascination, Through the Looking Glass, Family Business, and Facets.
> 
> Thanks so much to everyone who’s commented or given kudos on these stories - they’ve been so much fun to write!

‘Then it really _has_ happened, after all! And now, who am I? I will remember, if I can! I’m determined to do it!’ ~ Lewis Carroll, _Through the Looking Glass_

\----

Dax woke up with Benjamin wrapped around her, absolutely sure of who she was.

Each time, it was easier: each time, she was quicker to come down from the spiral of selves and settle into being Jadzia. Now, as she lay in his arms, it filled her with a strange disquiet. Joined Trill were supposed to be firm in their own identities; they weren’t supposed to rely on someone else to remind them who they were. Most worrying of all, the dreams of Curzon had stopped. It should have been a relief. Instead, it felt like the part of her that was Curzon was sulking: refusing to talk to her until he got his way.

The mornings without Benjamin were different. Waking in her bed alone, she would drift for long minutes, flickering unanchored through old hosts until eventually the centering chant brought her back to herself. Last time, she had resorted to crawling out of bed to the mirror, a strategy the Symbiosis Commission had scorned as the last crutch of a novice. She had pressed her forehead against the glass and stared into her own anxious blue eyes, trying to remember the name of the young woman looking back at her.

‘Jadzia,’ she murmured now, in the bed where Benjamin had said her name over and over, whispered it into her neck with kisses, half-gasped it as he shuddered to a climax inside her. It seemed absurd that she could ever have forgotten it.

‘That’s my line,’ Benjamin murmured into her ear. He pulled her closer, resting his chin on her shoulder. ‘Everything all right?’

She didn’t answer. She pulled away and started to sit up, but Benjamin’s arms tightened around her. ‘Going somewhere?’

She wriggled against him. ‘To Ops,’ she protested. ‘You’ve seen the duty roster.’

‘I have. And I make it fifteen minutes before either of us has to go anywhere.’ He kissed her neck, his hot mouth awakening her to possibilities. His hands caressed her, paying careful attention to the sensitive region at the base of her spine.

She tilted her head, exposing more of her neck to his mouth. ‘Fifteen minutes isn’t very long,’ she pointed out.

He turned her over. She lay on her side, looking into his warm dark eyes. ‘Do I hear a challenge?’ he said.

She couldn’t repress a smile. ‘Maybe you do.’

She didn’t honestly think she would reach _i’takish_. She assumed that the time pressure, and the constant background worry of Curzon’s strange absence, would hold her back. But she hadn’t accounted for Benjamin: his determined passion, his absolutely single-minded focus on her, her own attraction to him that made his every touch light up her nerves like a sensor array. She gave herself up to it: welcomed the shudder and spasm that stretched the short time they had into an eternity of his mouth on her, her body straining against its paralysis to convulse with the pleasure he gave her.

Afterwards, the narcotic still spreading through her system, she took him in her hand. She loved how much he obviously enjoyed giving her pleasure, how easy it was after that to bring him to his own release. As he lay panting and spent, she curled on her side and watched a smile spread across his face.

‘Someone’s pleased with themselves,’ she said, laughing.

He opened one eye. ‘Shouldn’t I be?’

She threw the useless triangle pillow at his head. ‘You should hope nothing in Ops requires me to have quick reactions this morning.’

He caught the pillow and threw it back at her. She batted it over her shoulder. He grinned. ‘Your reactions seem fine to me.’

She sat up, swaying. ‘I still want it known that if the Cardassians take back the station today, it’s your fault for pleasuring me into a stupor.’

‘I’ll note that in my log.’ He reached out and caught her by the waist. ‘When will I see you again?’

She quirked her mouth in a smile. ‘In Ops, in about half an hour.’

He pulled her close. ‘You know what I mean,’ he rumbled.

‘That depends. Are you free tonight?’

He shook his head. ‘Tomorrow’s out too. What about the day after?’

Dax ran her hand down his back. ‘No can do. I’ve got a holosuite reservation with Kira. Going to show her the Parallax colony.’

Benjamin raised an eyebrow. ‘You think that’s the kind of thing she would enjoy?

‘Of course not. But isn’t the point of a holosuite to expand your horizons?’

He stroked her arm, musing. ‘I always saw it as the opposite. To contract the horizon. Bring the scale of living out here down from the whole universe to something more — manageable.’

She smirked. ‘You’ve obviously been using the wrong programs.’

‘I look forward to my reeducation.’ His hand came up to brush her cheek.

She leaned into it. ‘So. Not tonight, not tomorrow, not the day after tomorrow. The day after that?’

His brow furrowed. ‘There’s a conference on Bajor.’

‘And I assume the Emissary’s presence is required.’ He nodded. She sat up, pulling the sheet around her. ‘How long will that go on for?’

‘Depends. If it goes well, a few days. But knowing the Provisional Government…’

‘It won’t go well.’

They went quiet. She wondered if they were thinking the same thing. They shared a brief, serious look before he sat up. ‘I’ll let you know.’

‘Do,’ she said, and pulled him across one last time to kiss her.

He left her quarters, humming.

*

The Parallax program went pretty much as Dax had expected. Kira got irritated by the whimsical inhabitants and shouted at them until they went away. Now she and Dax were in the mud bath, where Kira finally, reluctantly appeared to be enjoying herself. She kicked her legs, sinking to her neck. ‘I didn’t think I would ever willingly take part in anything endorsed by Lwaxana Troi.’

Dax smirked. ‘Say what you want about her, she has a way of — bringing things out in people.’

Kira’s expression darkened. ‘Don’t remind me.’

Dax guessed she was thinking of her misadventure with Julian, or perhaps losing Bareil's attentions to her for the space of an evening. For herself, all her memories of the Gratitude Festival centred on Benjamin: how the universe had narrowed to contain only him; how touching him had been the only thing that mattered. She remembered how right it had felt at the time, how mortified she had been afterwards. For nights on nights following, she had lain in her quarters, wondering if she’d imagined the look in his eyes that said part of him wanted it too.

Kira was watching her. ‘Hey. You’re supposed to be the one who actually enjoys it in here. You all right?’

Dax smiled. ‘Fine. Just — daydreaming.’ She settled back against the edge of the bath. Since the start of her recent identity crisis, she had been spending a lot more time with Kira. The major’s presence was like a centering chant: with her, she was perfectly Jadzia, without the Curzon-induced guilt that came with being around Benjamin. Perhaps it was because Kira was the only person on the station to whom her being joined was not a curiosity, or a joke, or a philosophical conundrum: it was simply irrelevant. Dax didn’t know if it was how the Bajorans in general approached things, or if it was just that Kira had been through enough in her life to have little patience for unimportant complications.

Kira lifted a muddy hand to touch Dax’s arm. ‘Oh, I meant to tell you. I met someone at the temple yesterday. He’s a crystallographer. Said he’d read a paper of yours on some new structures you found in the Gamma Quadrant. He’s a great admirer.’ Kira looked sideways at Dax. ‘He’s not bad-looking, either.’

Dax raised an eyebrow. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

Kira gave her an obvious grin. ‘So you can get a drink with him and talk about rocks. I was bored after five minutes, but you’d probably find him fascinating.’

Dax made a face. ‘Thank you, but no. I appreciate it, I do, I just — don’t feel like seeing anyone right now.’

Kira looked sideways at her. Dax couldn’t help looking back. Her face must have given her away in seconds.

‘You’re already seeing someone,’ Kira gasped.

Dax opened her mouth to deny it, then changed her mind. ‘I am,’ she admitted.

Kira sat up, sloughing off mud. ‘You’re seeing someone! And you didn’t tell me!’

‘Nerys, it’s complicated,’ Dax protested.

‘Why can’t you tell me?’ Kira turned fully to face Dax, mud forgotten. ‘Is it Julian?’

‘No, it’s not Julian!’ Dax crossed her arms in pique.

‘Chief O’Brien?!’

Dax looked scandalized. ‘Chief O’Brien is happily married!’

‘I’m trying to think of a reason why you wouldn’t tell me!’ Kira flicked mud off her hands in frustration. ‘All right. If it’s not someone who’s taken, It has to be someone who outranks you. Otherwise you wouldn’t be so cagey about it.’

Dax shrugged non-committally.

‘Eddington?’ said Kira with a sceptical face.

‘I’m not even going to honor that with a response.’

Kira looked baffled. ’But that only leaves me. I think I’d know if we were having a secret affair.’

Dax waggled her eyebrows. ‘We _are_ sharing a bath together.’ Kira kicked a spray of mud towards her, and she ducked, laughing. ‘There’s someone obvious you’re forgetting.’

Kira pouted and sat back. Dax waited. Kira opened her mouth, then closed it again. She turned so quickly she raised a small mud-wave. ‘ _No_. Commander Sisko?’ Dax grinned and nodded. Kira’s face screwed up with surprise. ‘But he — you were his — I thought he wouldn’t —’

’Believe me, I was as surprised as you are.’ Dax frowned at her friend’s amusement. ‘Nerys, this is serious. You can’t tell anyone. It’s against every Starfleet regulation in the book. I shouldn’t even have told you. You’d be within your rights to report us.’

Kira touched her arm, smiling. ‘I’m not Starfleet. And last time I checked, _I_ wasn’t the station’s main conduit for gossip.’ Dax pouted. Kira leaned back, smirking. ‘I’m amazed you managed to keep it to yourself this long.’

‘I did once go to lower pylon two just so I could scream it to an empty corridor.’

Kira gave Dax a sidelong look. ‘So. How is it?’

Dax looked appalled. ‘I can’t answer that! He’s a religious figure to you!’

Kira laughed, so loud someone could probably hear her from outside the holosuite. ‘You can’t blame a girl for wondering.’

‘It’s —’ Dax sighed. She closed her eyes and spoke in a low voice. ‘It’s very, very good.’

When she opened her eyes, Kira was looking at her with a bittersweet smile. Dax guessed she was thinking of Bareil. ‘I’m happy for you,’ Kira said simply.

‘So you’re not judging me?’

Kira looked astonished. ‘Judging you? For what?’

’Sleeping with the boss.’ Dax cringed as she said it. It was so far from the way she thought about herself and Benjamin that it felt like she was talking about someone else.

‘What makes me think I would judge you?’ 

’I don’t know. I remember you saying you were the only member of your resistance cell who didn’t sleep with Shakaar.’

Kira’s eyes crinkled in amusement. ‘That wasn’t out of principle. He just never made a move. If he had —’ She looked guiltily pleased. ‘I used to have kind of a thing for authority figures.’

Dax’s eyes widened. ‘Including Benjamin?’

Kira winced. ‘I said “used to”, didn’t I? Besides, he’s the Emissary. I don’t know if I can explain how much that doesn’t even enter into it for me.’

‘I’ll take your word for it.’ Dax leaned back. ’I never had a thing for authority figures. I always preferred a relationship of equals.’

‘Commander Sisko sees you as an equal.’

‘But Starfleet rank structure doesn’t.’ She sighed. ‘Would make things a lot simpler if it did.’

’This is a small station,’ said Kira. ‘I’m sure people wouldn’t judge.’

Dax shook her head. ’All it takes is one person to mention it in the wrong context and we get court-martialed, at worst. Reassigned, at best. And since it’s not like they can reassign the Emissary, it would be goodbye Deep Space Nine for me.’

Kira reached over. Dax put her hand on top of her friend’s, smiling ruefully.

‘So,’ said Kira. ‘What are you going to do?’

‘I don’t know.’ Dax sank down to her chin, exhaling. ‘It’s obviously not going anywhere. We both know that. But that doesn’t seem to dampen our enthusiasm. In some ways, it only makes the whole thing more…compelling.’

Kira gave her an understanding look. ‘My first relationships were in the Resistance during the occupation. Believe me, I know how much of an aphrodisiac doom can be.’

Dax was pondering that when she saw Kira’s eyes widen in horror. She followed her gaze. The Arguers and the Fire Sculptor were approaching.

‘They’re coming back,’ said Kira, rearing up.

‘Computer, end program,’ said Dax.

Kira, furious and tensed for a fight, stared at her across the floor of the empty holosuite.

Dax smiled and held up her hands. ‘Maybe we can try something a little less — participatory.’

*

Dax was on her way to Quark’s for a post-shift game of tongo when she heard her name being called.

‘Dax!’ Jake was in the replimat with an attractive, capable-looking woman. He waved Dax over. ‘This is Kasidy Yates,’ he said with a shy grin. ‘She’s a freighter captain. Kasidy, this is Jadzia Dax. She’s an old family friend.’

Dax smiled at Kasidy as she sat down. ’Actually, I’m his godfather.’

Confusion crossed Kasidy’s face before her eyes settled on Dax’s spots. Her eyes lit up with interest. ‘Oh. You’re a joined Trill!’

‘She’s my dad’s best friend,’ said Jake. He tapped Dax affectionately on the arm. ‘Tell her about the time the two of you tricked those Nausicaans on Pelios Station.’

Dax obliged, thinking all the while about Jake’s ability to make friends with the people who passed through the station, no matter what ship or planet or species they were from. The boy had something about him that disarmed people: to the point where this seasoned freighter captain, who probably had every reason to be suspicious, was looking at him with fond indulgence, like she’d already known him for years.

‘And that,’ Dax finished, ‘is the origin of the Nausicaan saying _Never trust an old Trill or a young human_.’

Kasidy laughed. She had a good laugh, genuine and warm.

‘That wasn’t all,’ said Jake, eagerly taking up the story. ‘The next time those Nausicaans stopped by the station, they went looking for revenge.’

Dax watched Jake’s eyes light up as he added to her story, fleshed it out with details that made it come alive. He had Benjamin’s charm, she realised, but without its dangerous edge, tempered instead by Jennifer’s sweetness. She felt a complicated, fatherly emotion as she watched him.

Kasidy raised her eyebrows at Dax. ‘The two of you were lucky to come out of that alive. I once delivered a shipment of stem bolts to a Ferengi with a Nausicaan bodyguard. The Ferengi accused me of short-changing him. Threatened to set the Nausicaan on me if I didn’t halve the agreed price.’

Dax leaned forward. ‘What happened?’

‘I reminded him I know every trader in the sector, and if anything happened to me, he’d be waiting a long time to get another supplier. Was a close thing, though. The Nausicaan looked pretty disappointed when his employer backed down.’ Kasidy checked the time. ‘I’m sorry, I have to go. My crew are expecting me.’ She stood up. ‘Nice to see you again, Jake. It was great to meet you, Jadzia.’

‘Likewise.’ Dax watched Kasidy cross the Promenade, heading for the turbolift to the docking ring.

Jake nudged Dax’s arm. ‘So? What do you think?’

Dax was puzzled by the question. ‘She seems very nice.’

Jake made a frustrated noise. ‘I mean for Dad! I’m going to introduce them. Don’t you think he’ll love her?’

Dax, suddenly stricken, followed his gaze. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘Yes, he will.’

*

Benjamin was waiting for her outside the holosuite, dressed in casual clothes and walking boots. He looked tired until he saw her. ‘Hello, old man,’ he said with a grin.

They had not been alone together for weeks; the pattern of Dax’s shifts and a minor crisis at the Bajor conference had combined to leave them no time for each other. A hiking program set in the Tan Zhehar mountains of Trill provided a convenient cover for their reunion. They surprised themselves by actually hiking first, enjoying falling back into the easy conversation they’d missed. Dax caught Benjamin up on station gossip, loving how he relished it as much as she did. He told her about the conference, making her laugh with his half-despairing report of the bickering factions within the Provisional Government, asking her advice on how best to placate one without losing the other. As they walked through the crisp, cool air, she remembered how much she liked talking to him: how much she relied on their mutual give-and-take to sort through her thoughts.

For a moment they fell quiet. Their boots crunched as they walked through the jade-and-silver woods of her homeworld.

‘So have you been here?’ Benjamin asked. ‘To the real thing?’

Dax nodded. ‘Once as Tobin, twice as Audrid.’

‘Never as Jadzia?’

‘Jadzia was always too busy with her studies to have much time for the great outdoors.’ She stopped him, pointing over his shoulder. He followed the line of her arm to a bird-like creature perched in one of the trees. It emitted a low hum, ruffling its metallic scales. ’Gogora bird,’ she said in his ear. ’They used to land in the gardens of the Symbiosis Institute. I always loved watching them.’

It took off in a flash of red. Benjamin turned. ‘Beautiful,’ he said, looking at her fondly.

Dax followed the bird’s flight. ‘Must be an error in the program. They’re not actually native to this area.’

‘Maybe the programmer loved them too.’ They continued walking. ’Do you miss Trill?’

She shrugged, looking around. ‘I miss people. My family, old friends. But Deep Space Nine is my home.’

He nodded. ‘I never would have expected it three years ago. But I’m beginning to feel the same.’

‘Here,’ she said, as they came into a clearing. On a ridge overlooking the sweep of the valley was a high-domed tent, garlanded with branches and bells that chimed in the gusting winds.

She pulled open the flap and ducked inside. The round space held a low bed of cushions and furs, and a glowing element that warmed the air inside, bathing everything in low, soft light.

She turned. Benjamin came towards her, haloed in the light from the door. She reached for him, arms open. He took her head in his hands, tangling his fingers in her hair as she ran her hands up his back, warm and damp from the exertion of their walk. He smelled good, not as a Trill would smell, his alien pheromones lost on her: strange and familiar as a bird in a wood it didn’t belong in, a bright flash among silver trees.

They kissed, slow and aching, re-learning each other. Outside, the simulated winds of her homeworld battered at the canvas, setting the garlands ringing with ghostly chimes. He teased her, undressing her piece by piece, his hands lingering in her tender places. She watched him, in love with the way he touched her: half-dreading the onset of _i’takish_ , wanting to stay in control, to perceive every moment.

After they had made love twice, the intense spikes of _i’takish_ subsided to a background glow like the warm light of the heater. Dax lay in Benjamin’s arms, imagining his first conversation with Kasidy. He’d ask about her ship, of course. She’d reply with some charming, half-joking complaint that revealed the depth of her knowledge while showing her fondness for the details of its inner workings. Benjamin would make some joke in return that would show he understood, and follow up with a question about her trading routes that showed he respected her independence and was genuinely interested in the day-to-day practicalities of her life.

‘Dax.’

They would charm each other within five minutes, if Benjamin could manage not to ruin it by bringing up baseball.

‘Dax! Are you listening to me?’

‘Hmm? Yes. Absolutely.’ She lifted her head.

He was raising his eyebrow in an expression she knew well. It meant, _Dax, there’s something you’re not telling me._

She sighed. ‘Jake — introduced me to someone.’

He leaned back on a pile of cushions, looking quizzical. ‘I take it you didn’t like them.’

‘I did. That was the problem.’ She sighed, putting her face in her hands. ‘Jake’s trying to set you up with someone. He introduced me to her, probably so I would put in a good word for you.’

He shook his head. ‘Jake,’ he growled under his breath.

’Benjamin, she’s wonderful.’ Dax propped herself on her arm. ‘She’s funny, smart, attractive. Not Starfleet. An independent woman with her own ship. Jake already loves her.’ She turned onto her back, looking up at the ceiling. ‘Best of all, you could be with her without having to sneak around like a cadet breaking curfew at the Academy.’

He leaned over her, making her look at him. ‘Is this Curzon speaking, or Jadzia?’

‘It’s Dax.’ He raised an eyebrow, but she held his gaze. ‘Curzon would have absolutely tried to steal her from you, if that’s what you mean.’ She winked at him. ‘I wouldn’t put it past Jadzia, either.’

‘You know that’s not what I meant.’ His hand ran over her collarbone, down the curve of her breast, raising shivers on her skin. ‘I’m just curious about the thought process that led to you naked in bed with me, singing the praises of another woman.’

‘I just —’ She bit her lip. ‘It made me think how much better it would be for you, if you had someone you could be with openly. Someone you could tell Jake about.’

He leaned closer, kissed her shoulder. ‘Actually,’ he said in a low voice, ‘I was thinking of telling Jake about us.’

‘Benjamin, no.’ He made a why-not expression. She sat up. ‘You’d have to tell him to keep it a secret. That’s too much of a burden to put on him. Besides, do you really think he’d take it well?’ She did her best impression of Benjamin’s measured tones. ‘Son, I thought you should know, I’m sleeping with your godfather?’

Benjamin frowned. ‘Dax, this isn’t a joke. And Jake is more open-minded than you give him credit for.’

‘I know he is. But Benjamin, you should have seen him. The way he looked at her. Like he could already see her in your quarters. Having dinner with you. Being part of the family.’ She caressed his face, looking at him earnestly. ‘That’s what Jake wants. Not for his father to be having an illicit affair with someone he can’t even acknowledge in public.’

‘Seems like you and Jake have everything planned out for me.’ He leaned over her, pinning her down with his arms. ‘What about what I want?’

His voice was low and dangerous. Energy flared between them, reminding her what she’d wanted since she’d known him in this body; what he’d wanted too, but hadn’t been able to admit to himself. She gave herself over to it. She pushed his arms aside and sat up, meeting his eyes in challenge. ‘What do you want?’

In answer, he grabbed her and kissed her fiercely, pressing her back against the wall. She gasped and dug her nails into his back, spreading her legs and lifting herself until she straddled him. He was hard, and her _sanatara_ were still half-open, _i’takish_ blurred by repetition into a constant state of near-readiness. She pushed him onto his back, rubbing against him as she raked her nails down his chest, taking out her frustration with his stubbornness, how he couldn’t see what was good for him and that it wasn’t this. They grappled, almost fighting, rolling over and off the bed, landing hard.

He pulled back, concern on his face. ‘Are you all right?’

She didn’t want his concern. She pushed him away and stood up. She took his hand and guided it between her legs, let him feel how close she was. He groaned with need and pressed his face to her belly, his fingers teasing the incipient ridge between her half-formed _sanatara_. Panting with desire, she reached down and tilted his head up, closer to the knot where all her selves met.

He drew back. For a long time, he’d stayed away from her _sura malikon_ , worried that bringing her previous hosts into what they did together would make her identity crisis worse. ‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes.’ 

He bent his mouth to the crux of her, sucking hard, his tongue circling, her pleasure building until it hurt. He flicked his tongue against just the right spot, and she cried out and buckled as his touch shattered her, splintered her into eight separate beings. 

Last time, it had been as if all her hosts were there at once. Now she was a serial voyeur, watching Benjamin with each of them in turn: men and women whose bodies she had known from the inside, each coupling with him, fervent or tender or desperate. She gasped with the terror of it: a collection of utterly separate people, an alien being in their gut, nothing at all to make them a coherent whole.

Then she felt Benjamin’s mouth move on her body, and everything collided back into one.

She cried out as _i’takish_ took her. The third time, it was different: the paralysis weakened to a heady slowness that let her keep her feet as he slid his fingers into her, let her tighten her grip on his shoulders as he moved in to taste her with his tongue. She saw him burst in colors across her vision, saw the ceiling of the tent above her melt into the wild, wind-whipped sky. He picked her up and carried her to the bed. She clamped her legs around him, savoring the solid heat of him as she pulled him inside her again. She knew with the suddenness of revelation that this was too much, too bright and inchoate to last. She saw him know it too, felt it in his desperation as he thrust up into her, as he came with a final gasp, as her half-closing _sanatara_ pushed him out of her. An overwhelming sadness racked her. Then, hearing his glad, disbelieving laugh, it turned to gratitude, that they’d had this together and would still have what lay beneath it: the best friend she’d had in seven lifetimes.

They lay panting together in the afterglow. She waited until she got her breath back before saying it. ‘Benjamin. You know we can’t keep doing this.’

Bells tinkled against the walls of the tent. Wind bellied the cloth inward.

‘I know,’ he said finally. He turned onto his side, studying her. ‘Dammit, Dax. This is a good thing.’ He stroked her face, and she kissed his fingers. ‘We’re not hurting anyone. It hasn’t affected our work. Why can’t we just have this?’

‘Because the rules are there for a reason.’

He made a face. ‘You and I don’t really fit into the rules.’

‘I agree. But I don’t think anyone else would understand.’

‘Do we really have no other options?’

She rolled onto her belly, resting her arms on a cushion. ‘I could request reassignment. Go be science officer on a starship. Drop in when I get shore leave.’

He touched her face. ‘Is that something you’d want?’

She thought about it. A ship, somewhere in the cold of space. None of the new faces she saw every day on the station; none of the sense of being at the heart of something, the swirling possibilities of the wormhole. No Kira, no Jake. No Quark, no Julian, no Odo, no Miles, no Leeta. No Benjamin.

She shook her head. ‘I love Deep Space Nine. I love my life here, I love my friends, I love my work. I can’t imagine anywhere I would rather be.’ She smiled ruefully, touching his shoulder. ‘And I’d rather have you by my side every day as my friend than once every six months or so as my lover.’

He nodded. ‘I feel the same.’

Dax knew there was another possibility: one of them could resign. Or they both could. Leave Starfleet, head for Earth or Trill or wherever in the galaxy would have them. But she knew it wasn’t something either of them was prepared to offer.

She kissed him, and looked for a long time into his eyes. ‘In another life, maybe,’ she said.

He sighed heavily. ‘That’s easy for you to say.’

She turned onto her back, looking up at the billowing ceiling. ‘When we leave this tent. When we say “End Program”. It’ll be over.’

He nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘Can we just have a few more minutes?’

He reached for her. She curled into his chest. He stroked her hair as the time counted down.

**

The other Dax’s hair was shorter, and her sense of humor was harsher, but her body was the same. Sisko traced the trail of spots down her side from her breast to her hip. She was sitting on the edge of the bed they’d shared, pulling on her vest.

‘You miss her, don’t you,’ she said.

He pulled his hand back. ‘I see her every day.’

‘See her.’ She smirked.

‘Yes. I see her. I work with her. I talk to her.’ He sat up. ‘That’s what matters.’ 

‘But the rest was nice, wasn’t it? Shame your Starfleet regulations had to spoil all the fun.’ She leaned closer, her cheek brushing his. Her voice was low. ‘That’s not an issue with me, is it, Benjamin?’

He closed his eyes as she flicked her tongue into his ear. He groaned. His hands went to her, pulled her down on top of him. He heard her laugh, melodious and cruel, his friend and not his friend. He remembered bringing her to _i’takish_ in that soft-lit cave, and the memory blended into a tent hung with jangling bells, a long-haired, smiling Jadzia bearing him down onto a bed of furs.

He woke with a start, alone in his bed in the right universe.

His higher mind knew it was the correct decision, that preserving their friendship and their lives on Deep Space Nine was the most important thing. His subconscious, it seemed, was reluctant to let go.

He dealt efficiently with his frustration, showered, and went to the replimat. Dax was there, raktajino in one hand and PADD in the other. It was the first time he’d seen her since her _zhian’tara_. She waved him over with a smile.

He sat down. ‘How are you feeling?’

She felt for her neck. ‘Fine. Julian got rid of the bruises.’

‘I’m so sorry, old man.’ His voice trembled. He still remembered the horror of feeling himself strangle her, unable to shake off the alien mind that controlled him.

Dax shook her head. ‘Benjamin. It wasn’t you. It was me.’

‘I suppose.’ It was hard to accept. That cold presence, too, was part of Dax. He had held a facet of her inside him: more intimate, in a way, than anything else they had shared.

She winced. ‘I’m just sorry I had to throw you across the room.’

He opened his hands. ‘Like I said. I put my body at your disposal.’

It was the wrong thing to say. The awkward silence lasted a few seconds, until Dax said, ‘You’re still the only one I would have trusted with him.’

He met her eyes. ‘That means a lot.’

‘Having said that,’ she added with a smile, ‘I was originally thinking of asking you if you’d like to host Curzon.’

He started laughing. ‘You didn’t think the relationship between the three of us was complicated enough?’

She grinned. ‘I thought it might be good for you to understand how it feels to have a Curzon in you. Constantly pushing you to make terrible decisions.’

He laughed and sipped his raktajino. ‘Did it help?’ he asked her. ‘Talking to him?

She put down her PADD and looked up. Suddenly, he could see it: she was centered now, in a way she hadn’t been before. It made him glad, and a little awestruck. He felt like he once had watching the sun rise through the window of a temple on Bajor: seeing fragments of light brought together to make a color he had never seen before. 

‘It did,’ she said. ‘I think I finally understand Curzon now. He was always holding something back. But it’s a part of me, now.’ She mused, propping her chin on her hand. ‘In a way, I guess he was jealous of both of us.’

Sisko took another sip of his raktajino. No one had a relationship quite like theirs. And that was, he decided, all right.

‘So,’ Dax said, eyes bright. ‘Did you meet Kasidy?’

‘I did,’ he said carefully.

‘Do you like her?’

‘I do. Very much.’ He couldn’t help grinning. ‘She likes baseball.’

Dax’s eyes widened. ‘You’re kidding.’ He shook his head. She threw up her hands. ‘Well. Who am I to thwart the will of the Prophets?’

He sighed, remembering his dream. ‘Dax, I’m going to need some time. can’t just — overwrite what happened between us. Even if you can,’ he added, looking down at the table.

She took his hand. ‘I haven’t overwritten it.’ She smiled, looking into the distance. ‘I do feel — different, after my _zhian’tara_. When we first — did what we did, I thought it was an aberration, me rebelling against who Dax was supposed to be. But now, it feels like…just another dimension of how I feel about you. One it was fun to explore, for a while.’ She looked back at him, saw his questioning look. She squeezed his hand. ‘I want you to be happy, Benjamin. I can be sad for what we lost and feel that, too, at the same time. I hope it’ll be that way for you, soon.’

He looked at her, his sometime-mentor, sometime-lover. All those identities gone but still present, subsumed into what she always had been and always would be: his friend.

‘Jadzia Dax,’ he said, shaking his head in wonder. 

‘I know,’ she said, winked, and went to get them another raktajino.

***


End file.
